


Losing Signs

by micehell



Series: SEISyUN-ish world [5]
Category: Johnny's Entertainment, TOKIO
Genre: AU (SEISyUN-ish world), Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-10
Updated: 2011-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-11 12:25:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/478531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/micehell/pseuds/micehell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tatsuya had come back, but he was still lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Losing Signs

**Author's Note:**

> About the series: I call this a SEISyUN-ish type world, in that it's kind of post-Robot Apocalyptic in character and it was heavily inspired by the PV (of course), but it's not the PV storyline. For one thing, the series sort of mirrors the time from when the guys would have first joined the agency in real life to a little past their debut (or it will when it's finished (whenever _that_ might be!) ;), so not the right timeline for the PV, plus I tend to like happier endings, oi. *snork*
> 
> About the story: This is actually the first of the series I wrote, but it's likely at the end of the timeline of it, so there you go, read at your own discretion. The story stands alone (and makes sense alone), but for a better overview of the world this series is set in, it's probably better to read [A Sky Full of Mistakes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/478492) first.

When they first take him off the morphine, they ask Tatsuya if he feels any pain. He doesn't know how to answer them, everything distant and floating, even the impulse to answer the question itself. Apparently they take his disinterest as a yes, leaving him alone on the hard bunk the corpsmen consider therapeutic. He barely feels it at all.

~*~

At breakfast they tell him how he feels instead of asking. "If you keep feeling this well, we'll release you to your squad when they get back tomorrow morning." 

At lunch they tell him how he feels instead of asking. "If you keep feeling this well, we'll give you something besides jello and soup for dinner."

Eventually they stop. They still come in regularly, impersonal fingers on his wrist to measure his pulse, the reluctant hiss of an old blood pressure gauge salvaged from a hospital hit in the first wave of the invasion, but they're phantoms that he can largely ignore. Still, he thinks about the question they're not asking, and wonders why he can't feel anything at all.

~*~

They kick him out of the med tent back to his barracks when he wakes up the next day. Leader fusses around him when he walks in, face still dirty from the depot raid they'd done the night before, but looking worried underneath it. Usually Tatsuya would tell him it was okay, cutting off the mother hen mode before it can get really started, but the words won't come.

Taichi is looking at him a little oddly, but fills in the silence like he always does. "You know, Leader, when you scrunch your forehead like that, it makes you look like a Shar Pei. Not that I'm complaining, because I always wanted a pet, but it's going to leave wrinkles, and you wouldn't want to lose even more of your appeal with the ladies."

Leader pouts, but he smoothes his forehead out as well. Tatsuya thinks that considering Taichi has been fucking Leader for years, it's not like he should have to worry about appealing to the ladies, but he doesn't feel the need to say it out loud. The drone of their half-hearted argument follows him as he retreats back to the soft mattress that Nagase had scavenged for them last year, but the only thing he feels is cold.

~*~

Mabo decides they should have a bonfire that night. He invites Higashi, who has a fondness for their group, and he invites Inocchi, because even though they always argue, Mabo feels better when he's around. By the time they light the fire, a lot of the groups are there, those that don't have any missions that night at any rate. It's loud and noisy and too hot, but Tatsuya still feels cold even when he almost burns his hand in the flames.

Kenichi pulls his hand away from the fire, pretending that he wants to shake it. People have been congratulating Tatsuya all evening on his return, pretty much everyone but the guys having been sure he was dead already. Kenichi talks about the mission, complaining about the bad intel, but he trails off after a while when Tatsuya just listens. Eventually he says, "Have the after action report on my desk by the end of the week," and leaves. 

Tatsuya thinks he maybe should feel bad about the unintentional silent treatment, but Kenichi pulls Atsuhiro aside and after that there's always someone beside Tatsuya, talking through his silences even as the fire dwindles to nothing but embers and ash, so he figures Kenichi has his revenge. 

~*~ 

The one person who is never by Tatsuya is Nagase. He's always there at the edges, though. Over by the fire, talking to Leader, his hands fidgeting with his holster even though he's been warned about that before. Helping set out the home brew the mess hall crew claim is beer while Higashi earnestly talks to him. On a bench next to Mabo, the reluctant 'girl' as Mabo clowns around with some juniors about the proper way to hug a girl. He puts on an adoring face as Mabo wraps him up, smiling with the others when Mabo smacks him on the back of his head, but he doesn't laugh.

He does look at Tatsuya, though. Longer looks when he thinks Tatsuya won't notice, but mostly quick glances, eyes tracking him no matter where he goes or who is with him. 

And those eyes are the first thing Tatsuya's felt since he got back.

~*~ 

It's late when Nagase finally comes into their room, hanging by the doorway, looking small and uncertain in a way he hasn't in years. It reminds Tatsuya of when he'd first been thrown into their group, Johnny-san barely even introducing him before they'd headed out on a mission, too young and too green and too unknown for anyone to be comfortable with him, and all too aware of it himself. Tatsuya had been angry back then at the strange kid he'd been given, but that was six years ago, a lifetime ago, and anger isn't what he's feeling right now.

And he knows he's to blame for the hesitation, for the quick glances he can still feel even if he can't see them in the dark. 

When the others had come for him, he'd been pinned down by crossfire, Void drones on one side and some unknown Resistance band on the other, already sick from two days of avoiding Void patrols with no supplies and a bullet in his arm that he'd taken when he first got separated from his group. He'd been lying there trying to resign himself to death when they'd shown up, but instead of feeling relief, he felt scared in a way he hadn't been when it was just him. There were too many bullets flying, too many chances to die, on the path to him, but they kept coming anyway, no matter how many times he told them to go back.

Maybe it was the fever, maybe it was the bloody furrow he saw on Taichi's arm or the look of fatigue that was on all their faces, or maybe it was just days of being sure he was going to die and not being able to cope with the painful rush of hope he felt when Nagase managed to get him over his shoulder, the others forming a protective guard around him as they fought their way back out of a hopeless situation, but whatever it was, Tatsuya had shut it all down, shut them all out, getting colder and colder, but feeling it less and less, with every step Nagase took towards home.

But the fever's gone now, and all of them are rested, and he knows he's as safe from dying as he ever is, and the relief he feels isn't painful at all. As welcome as the kid he hadn't wanted that first mission but that he opens his arms to gather in now.

The bed is soft, and Nagase's hard, and Tatsuya had missed all of it when he'd been afraid he was going to die. There's usually little finesse in Nagase, but there's even less now, getting rid of clothes with no care but reaching skin as quickly as possible. His dick is hard and tapping against his belly as he starts grinding against Tatsuya, pushing into the curve of his hip with desperate need. Tatsuya's own dick is pressing up against Nagase's belly, rubbing come into the treasure trail he loves to trace with his tongue, nails scratching along that long curve of back as he finally can't take it any longer, his world fading to nothing but pleasure and the small cry Nagase makes as he follows him over. 

Nagase's asleep almost instantly, even with both of them sweating and tangled together, sex and worry taking their toll, but Tatsuya lies awake, feeling tired and sated and sore and warm. 

He feels home. 

/story

**Author's Note:**

> Just for scene setting, this is how I'm imagining Gussan for this:  
> [Badass](http://pics.livejournal.com/micehell/pic/0016edxg/)  
> But that's actually older than he'd be in the story. So to set the time frame, this is about how old they'd be... and everyone but Gussan would have just that hair ;):  
> [Hair!](http://pics.livejournal.com/micehell/pic/001fa315/)


End file.
